


What I Am

by ishougen



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom, bondlock - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:52:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishougen/pseuds/ishougen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a man that everyone knows, and there is a man who knows everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Am

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning, please tread carefully!

“You do realize this makes us lovers,” he says, fingers on my skin, breath in my ear. He knows I can’t answer but he asks anyway, and I can feel his smirk against the back of my neck when I try to muffle something past the cloth between my lips. A spike of pain shoots up my spine as his hips shift, but my cry, like my words, are lost in the damp fabric that has been shoved into my mouth. His smirk turns into a grin as he laughs, sharp and quick, before his hips move again and then he’s taking me, tearing me apart, turning me into something I’m not. He doesn't let me fight back; maybe it’s because he knows I’m too smart for that.

But intelligence and instinct aren't connected. You told me that, remember? In the museum...

I think of triggers and it makes me laugh suddenly, broken sounds spilling from me, and I can taste blood intermixed with fabric. Triggers. Guns. The phallic object, the primal scene. What would you say if you saw me like this? I wonder, briefly, if they’ll make me talk to the psychoanalyst later, in an attempt to recover my usefulness, to pull out the seeds he has planted in me.

The air is thick and full of his scent as he grunts into my shoulder, teeth sharp, skin breaking under his administrations. He whispers something inaudible as he retreats, disappears. My insides are numb but I feel the fluids trickle out, the mixture of red and white painting a picture along the inside of my thigh. He has carved his name into the core of my heart, has left a note to indicate his debt. The wound is raw and it stings.

What will you say, when you find me here, when my brother figures it out and gives you the clues?

Lovers, he said.

Men like us cannot be loved, you said.

But you were loved, weren't you?

Was it this painful for you?

There is red and white, but I don’t see it. All I see is black.

**Author's Note:**

> I know the characters involved may be a bit confusing to figure out, please let me know how you feel about this! This was kind of an experiment/way of venting stress for me. I really appreciate every bit of feedback. Thank you for reading!


End file.
